1297

Go slow, my soul, to feed thyself
Upon his rare approach—
Go rapid, lest Competing Death
Prevail upon the Coach—
Go timid, should his final eye
Determine thee amiss—
Go boldly—for thou paid’st his price
Redemption—for a Kiss—

My favourite colour, has long since been grey
But I didn't know why, until today
I envy grey, grey doesn't commit
Any strong emotion, well grey isn't it
Grey's not red anger, red hate, or  red love,
Blue sadness, yellow fury or perfection's white dove.
No, grey is nothing, no emotion, no pain,
no commitment, no dichotomies, I want that again.

The lines on my body
Creating a pattern that is my own
The lines on my body
That runs from my shoulders to my toes
The lines on my body
That I hate with all of my heart
But still will miss when they go away
The lines on my body
Created late at night when no one is awake but me and the stars
The lines on my body
Are slowly suffocating me

The real of my imagination, i was once a disciplined child, yearned once in a life time yet had too much to ask, with too much in mind,or mind to ask, in this world of good reflection, deception and rejection that trouble or double my mind arrors, ecstacy of fantasy to better the bitter sensetive sound of m echoing solitude song, tune out the vital volme of violent voices, of selfish self preservation pleasure, crowded by cowards, who win no fair fight to those of rely on reality, no doubt of the dawn, some pursed their lips to curse, i rest my worst; ever since, to call for redeemption my protection, only God knows i want to brake free

I don't care about what the signs show
I am never letting you go
In every city and every town
I am never letting you down
'Cause whatever it is that they say
I'm never going to walk away
oh but I can't help but see
That you're the only one good enough for me.

They were lovers don't you see. They ruled the kingdom of the skies with an iron fist of intimacy. Their pure passion washed over the kingdom like the grey-ish blue waves that violently crahsed over the rocky bottom of a treacherous cliff, one after another never stopping. They were dearly loved by all. Hated by few. Despised by one: Destiny.
Destiny had wounds too deep to penetrate with lust like theirs. Destiny had too thick of scabs to peel away with their tender hearts.
Destiny was too bitter to love at all and used her agony against the king and queen and over came their rule. She banished one to the skies and the other to the plains, doomed to never see each other again.
The plan was full-proof, she never had to deal with her own self wallowing pain, caused by their affection, and rather strive on their cries of reunion, but what Destiny didnt realize, the moon was very cunning like a snake of the forest, lying and manipulative. He made a deal with the devil.
The lord of the ground promised him his girl, if he could create a time of the day that everyone feared, and which his demons could roam freely. So he created night. Crowned king of his own creation the moon was granted his girl. Every night for twelve hours the two sing to each other, wishing again for the love they once had, traveling all of the lands, being chased by the sun, never resting; never landing. The moon and the wolf.

I am not yours, not lost in you,
Not lost, although I long to be
Lost as a candle lit at noon,
Lost as a snowflake in the sea.

You love me, and I find you still
A spirit beautiful and bright,
Yet I am I, who long to be
Lost as a light is lost in light.

Oh plunge me deep in love—put out
My senses, leave me deaf and blind,
Swept by the tempest of your love,
A taper in a rushing wind.